


Not a Hundred Years More

by fo4companionmusings, relatablepicsofrustyventure (fo4companionmusings)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Declarations Of Love, First Time, Hand Jobs, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, Top Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 12:28:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19723702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fo4companionmusings/pseuds/fo4companionmusings, https://archiveofourown.org/users/fo4companionmusings/pseuds/relatablepicsofrustyventure
Summary: Crowley started the fire of 1748 because he just couldn't admit how in love with an angel he was.





	Not a Hundred Years More

**Author's Note:**

> Historical information may or may not be fully accurate. I do not claim to be a historian or claim the characters within this work of fiction as my own.

1748

It wasn't anything much unusual. It had been several decades¹ since the demon and angel had been in each other's company. That in itself wasn't odd. They tended to find their way back to each other when one or the other succumbed to boredom.²

It was the 28th of March. A fire had broken out in London. The fire caused nearly a million pounds of damage. 

They quietly sat in a tavern of Aziraphale's choosing after the flames had died down. It was quiet, less rowdy than most of the establishments around. 

"Been a while," Crowley stated, taking a seat beside the angel, his usual white ambience permeating the dark browns and grays of the building, a metaphorical, rather than literal glow surrounding him.

"Has it?" Aziraphale inquired, knowing full well how long it had been since they had seen each other. "Did you set the fire by chance?" 

Crowley chuckled, a low rumble from within the pit of his stomach.³ He smiled a cheeky, toothy grin. "Nah." 

Aziraphale let out a little huff and played with the handle of the drink be had ordered. 

Crowley watched him, a bit of awkward silence filling the air. Sometimes the moments between them felt smooth. Now was not one of those moments. 

The tavern cracked and creaked from the cold winds of early springtime. It was nearing 11 p.m. They remained silent as the door whistled, vaguely sounding like that of a wounded animal or forsaken spirit of a child. 

Crowley's hand reached for Aziraphale's mug, the angel not having touched it to his lips except to fiddle with it between his digits. 

His hand met the angel's for nothing more than a brief moment. He hoped Aziraphale hadn't noticed. 

However, the angel had. It was hard to miss the cold the seeped from deep within Crowley's being. The contrary was the same for Aziraphale. Crowley felt as though his hand were about to melt off. 

Aziraphale made sure to not have any reaction show upon his face. Instead, he attempted to re-direct. 

Sometimes they forgot who they each were upon meeting, not knowing the boundaries that could be crossed. 

"So, ah.. What have you been doing?"

"What have I been doing?" Crowley narrowed his eyes and took a drink of the liquid in the cup. It burned on its way down. "Nothing. Pity, it is. There's absolutely nothing going on."

"For a hundred years?"

"Ninety-two, angel." He stated, taking another drink.

Aziraphale scrunched his nose at Crowley correcting him. He knew that, but rounded up to sound more... More...

The tavern's owner came up to them, as if to say something, but Crowley waved his hand and the man froze where he stood before Aziraphale could figure out his thoughts. 

He sighed and put some money on the counter and stood, turning toward the door. "Come on. Release the poor man."

Crowley out another little groan. "Alright, fine." 

The minute they left the establishment Crowley snapped his fingers and released the man from the demon's control.

Aziraphale could tell something was off. Crowley was a mystery a great deal of the time, but there was something different, something nervous. 

"Crowley, you have been in my company for quite some time and I.." Aziraphale didn't know how to continue, so he kept quiet and followed where Crowley had begun leading them.

It was an inn, not far away.

"Had you been this close the entire time?" The angel questioned, his own residence nearby. 

Crowley nodded. "Not always. Inn down that way too." He waggled his eyebrows. "I like to switch it up sometimes."

Aziraphale let out a chuckle. "You don't say." 

Crowley smiled slightly opening the door to the inn. He desperately desired that Aziraphale had not seen this display of emotion. 

They walked up the stairs and in to the room which Crowley had paid for. It had two swinging doors which opened up in to a large bedroom with a chaise lounge and chairs. Above the bed hung a rather large painting⁴ and some ornately draped cloth. 

It was dark too as far as color schemes went, suiting to Crowley's tastes. One could tell that he had been at this inn for quite some time. 

Aziraphale admired the adornments on the candle holders for a few moments before sitting down. An itch scratched at the back of his mind and he tried to ignore it.

Crowley took a seat beside him, as close to the end of the chaise lounge as he could be. He couldn't be any closer at this moment. The angel's heat was piercing through him.

Aziraphale took a deep breath. "If I've done something to warrant your distance-"

Crowley's eyes widened and his chest tigtened on its own. He didn't reply. 

"I..." Aziraphale had spent the last hundred years thinking, wondering. He spent it filled with longing and confusion.⁵ "I enjoy.. I enjoy spending time with you." 

Crowley kept his attention focused on his shoes, or the wall in front of them, rather than the angel's face.

"Crowley, I.." Aziraphale's voice had begun to grow quiet. "I have.. I have found that you've occupied my every thought." 

"Angel-" 

Aziraphale cut him off, not yet finished speaking. "You go away for all this time, yet you return and I.. I find..." There was a long pause. "I find myself in love.. Whether it be logical or not, I can not say, but.."

He patted his hands against his pant legs now. "That is.. How I feel." 

Crowley darted to Aziraphale's proximity in an instant, the angel being caught completely off guard. This was the closest they had been in the thousands of years that they had known each other.

Crowley's coldness told him to leave, disappear for another hundred years and maybe, just maybe, Aziraphale would take back what he had said. 

He pressed his face in to Aziraphale's neck, the angel tensing up for a moment. This feeling was uncharted, feral. 

"Angel, angel how I've.." Crowley slid his hand in to Aziraphale's coat, wringing his hand in the fabric. 

Aziraphale had released the tension in his body now, begging to hear the sentiment he shared for Crowley to be returned.

He searched Crowley's face as it rose from his neck, leaving a tingling sensation upon his skin.

Cold lips met his own rather urgently, Crowley not releasing the hold on Aziraphale's coat, but using his other hand to hold the angel's face desperately. 

Aziraphale leaned back against the seat, allowing Crowley to deepen the kiss. 

"I love you." Crowley whispered against Aziraphale's lips, the angel's breath getting caught in the way out of his throat. 

After gaining his breath, Aziraphale urged Crowley as close as possible, letting out a muffled moan after their lips met once more, gripping the chaise lounge with one hand. 

"Oh, angel.. Aziraphale.." Crowley's lips met the skin of Aziraphale's neck with haste. 

He pressed a few kisses there, making the angel whimper.

"Crowley, I am yours. My heart, my entire being.. I am yours. I have been, since.." Aziraphale choked on the words a bit, as Crowley placed a long kiss right between where his neck and should met. 

"Tell me.." Crowley encouraged.

"Since the dawn of time." 

Next, Crowley's lips sucked at the flesh of the angel's neck, not pulling away until the skin had become discolored. 

"Should I stop?" Crowley asked, his heart still trying to tell him that this wasn't genuinely happening.

"Crowley, please. Don't stop." 

Crowley stood up and gently pulled Aziraphale up from the chaise lounge, then guided him over toward the bed. 

Aziraphale laid down, Crowley on top of him.

"Tell me, oh knight of heaven, what you want me to do." 

Aziraphale turned his face away, unable to meet Crowley's gaze as he miracled away his own shirt. 

Crowley bit his lip and brought his lips to Aziraphale's chest now, pressing a few kisses there. 

"Crowley, please.. Please.." He begged, grasping at the demon's back.

Crowley made their remaining clothes disappear, erections touching ever so slightly. 

"Ah..." Aziraphale moaned, arching his back up.

Crowley's hand met Aziraphale's cock, moving his hand up and down in rhythmic strokes. 

"Mmmn.. Ah.." Aziraphale moaned, covering his face with his hands, already feeling his climax nearing. "I.. I can't.." 

Crowley moved the angel's hands out of the way. "Look at me, please. I didn't wait this long to not see your face."

Slowly, Aziraphale's gaze met Crowley's, but as Crowley moved his hand faster, his eyes rolled back. "A-Ah... Crowley.. Oh, dear I love you." 

"So long I wanted to hear those words.." Crowley stated before moving closer, his lips tracing their way around the angel's ear, his next words a whisper. "Come for me, angel."

Aziraphale let out one last moan, a high, heavenly pitch cracking the windows around them and he climaxed on to Crowley's hand as well as his own stomach.

Crowley could sense the concern and insecurity already surrounding Aziraphale.

"I would have waited six thousand more years for you. I would have." Aziraphale stated, staring in to Crowley's eyes. "I would have waited, but not seeing you for so long.. It pains me."

Crowley ran his thumb across Aziraphale's lips. 

"Never again, will you have to wait."

**Author's Note:**

> [1] Rather close to a full century, as a matter of fact.
> 
> [2] It was almost always the serpent. 
> 
> [3] Of course he did. 
> 
> [4] This painting was of a landscape and was approximately 6" x 4" in diameter. 
> 
> [5] It had been a few thousand years, but the last few hundred had become stressful on his heart, to say the least.


End file.
